


A High Price

by ChurroBird



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, but its totally worth it, honestly this was supposed to be a vent story but i liked it too much, this just in: local mortal kicks the shit out of asshole god and loses their soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 22:45:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChurroBird/pseuds/ChurroBird
Summary: They wanted to live a simple life, but when push came to shove, they had to sacrifice it all.After all, mortals must pay a high price for the murder of a god.





	A High Price

Their thoughts always drifted back to the times when life was simpler.

A regular village kid, they were. Running about town with friends, kicking up the mud, going home and being scolded by their parents, only to repeat it all again the next day. They loved visiting the local library, immediately going to the storybooks of heroes and villains, even when they were told they were too old for fairytales like those.

It never, ever, seemed like _just_ fairytales to them.

Despite their mother’s warnings and fears, they always would run down to the tournament arena and watch the skilled fighters go at it. It was a highlight in the drab life of living in such a small town. Honestly, they never would have guessed one of those gladiators would ever take a notice to them…

But she did.

She wasn’t the most famed or the toughest, but she meant the world to them. She taught them how to use an arsenal of weapons, but the sword and the crossbow were always their favorite. It made them feel just like the heroic knights in the stories.

The training went on until they were older, and it soon morphed from the one-on-one to them being supervised as they fought and taught a newbie. After all, their mentor suffered the eternal march of time, and she could not fight as well with her now-weak limbs.

That did not them from pursuing the thrill of the fight. Becoming somewhat of a vigilante, they’d stop small bad deeds like robberies or alley-way fights. The whole business worried their mother even further, but they loved it.

This small-town life was all they knew, and thought it’d be all they would ever know, but one day, the chaos hit.

The drought raged on, drying up the rivers and sucking the life out of crops. Wildfire had started in the woods nearby, and they barely had enough water to put it out. The sky seemed to turn red with the fear and agony of the people, as if Pandora’s box had just been opened to their small, small world.

No one knew what to do, terror raging on like a war, everyone was either quickly getting out of town or cowering in their homes. However, one stood among the imbalance of the world.

It was the old man from the local temple, a man who everyone believed to be senile. He spoke to them about this being the doing of an ancient, horrible god. A god whose amusement came from their suffering, and their suffering would only continue to fuel His tyranny.

No one considered the man’s words, just trying to salvage what little life they had left in their civilization. Nonetheless, undeterred by what others told them, they listened. The man told them about His plan to destroy humanity, and it would be oh so difficult and most certainly ending in death, but He could be defeated.

They were given a few incantations, some spells that no mortal should ever have to use, he said… but they believed now was the perfect time.

Given one of the last horses the town had, they rode off. They would search far and wide to find where He was hiding; like a coward, they thought.

Soon, they found it. A tall, menacing palace, His lair was. Something inside them made them feel childlike, calling it a “lair”, like they were back home and reading all the books on the fiction bookshelf.  Gripping their sword, they steeled themselves, and dashed inside. They did not spare even a glance back, already knowing that He sensed them as soon as they entered through the large doors.

He was looking for a fight. Or maybe He believed that He could kill them off easily, like He had done to so many other mortals.

After all, there was no way to kill an immortal, right?

A normal person would’ve thought that, and laughed if you assumed otherwise, but they were far from normal.

Maybe it was hours, maybe it was just a few seconds, but all they remember was reciting those accursed lines that the old man had taught them, staring Him down. He almost seemed entertained, until He started noticing the tears in reality.

The old magics swirled around them, inside of them, and they couldn’t tell if everything was icy cold or flaming hot. Their very soul started cracking, magical scars appearing in the same shattered pattern upon their skin. They should’ve been like any other, letting their mortal mind succumb to the madness, as a final warning to not interfere with the work of the gods. _They should have died._

But they lived, but they lived, but they lived, _but they lived._

They remembered the spells finally igniting, surrounding their hands and their sword like a fire that somehow didn’t burn them to ashes instantly. They remembered plunging their blade into Him, and screams that could almost have been perceived to be human, _but they can’t let themselves be fooled. Not now, not this far._

Finally, it was over. The rips in Their world stitched back up, unlike the aching, empty, _soulless_ feeling in Their chest.

They ignored it for now, but then They turned to the blood red skies… and _laughed_ at His remains.

For many years, They would live there at that castle. They would quickly take care of any indications of His return, and brought back peace to humankind.

They never returned home, but They laughed when the world sung with joy, cried for those who were wronged, and rejoiced in triumph when the culprits were put to justice.

The aching feeling in Their chest would never fade from Their now-immortal days, reminding Them of the great sacrifice They had to give to stop His reign.

_After all, mortals must pay a high price for the murder of a god._

But in spite of all of this… They were happy to be the sworn protector of humankind, _and vowed to never become like Him._


End file.
